


Double Trouble

by fuzipenguin



Series: Explosive Relations [7]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, Dildos, Double Vaginal Penetration, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome, Twincest, Vaginismus, unintentional pain during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wheeljack tries something new with the twins, something which has him pretty nervous</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                “Ready, cowboy?” Sideswipe asked with a wink. He suggestively stroked his thighs, drawing Wheeljack’s gaze to Sideswipe’s eagerly twitching spike.

                “If I’m a cowboy, what does that make you?” Wheeljack asked, throwing a leg over Sideswipe’s lap and straddling him. Sideswipe reached out to him from his recline against their entire collection of pillows and tugged on Wheeljack’s hips.

                “A damn lucky idiot,” Sunstreaker supplied, lightly touching Wheeljack’s back as he positioned himself over Sideswipe. Wheeljack appreciated the support from them both; he was nervous bordering on terrified and it showed in the slight tremor of unsteady limbs.

                “Both of us,” Sideswipe replied absently. “You’re sure you’re ok?” he inquired softly, hands smoothing over Wheeljack’s waist.

                Wheeljack looked up from positioning the head of that throbbing spike at his port entrance. His calipers clenched down restlessly, nowhere near as apprehensive as his processor was.

                “What? Yeah, absolutely,” he said and to prove his point, he lowered himself down until his aft rested atop Sideswipe’s thighs. They both moaned at the penetration, Sideswipe’s fingers spasming as Wheeljack’s valve rippled in bliss.

                It’d already experienced two overloads tonight, one via Sideswipe’s talented mouth and the other as Sunstreaker had pumped into him from behind. His endurance wasn’t anything like the twins’, but after a lot of practice, he was starting to get there. Now three was usually his limit before his frame decided he needed to rest. And tonight, the twins were intent on making his third overload spectacular.

                “You don’t have to if you don’t feel up to it,” Sunstreaker added, also straddling Sideswipe’s legs from behind Wheeljack. A gentle hand stroked the middle of his back and he arched into it when dexterous fingertips brushed the lower edges of his winglets.

                “No, I’m good,” Wheeljack insisted, swiveling his hips and enjoying the sparking of pleasure at the base of his spinal strut. Sunstreaker’s hand slid down and palmed Wheeljack’s aft for a moment before applying gentle pressure just above the swell of it.

                “If you’re sure… lean forward a bit,” Sunstreaker instructed.

                Spark pounding in his chest, Wheeljack did as he was told, placing his weight on his palms. Sideswipe grinned up at him, a manic light in his optics. “You’re gonna love this, I promise,” he whispered. “Feels so good.”

                Then how come _Sideswipe_ wasn’t the one in Wheeljack’s position?

                He immediately felt bad for the waspish thought that flitted through his mind. Wheeljack hadn’t said no when they had asked to try this, so he shouldn’t blame anyone but himself for his nervousness.

                And then thinking flew out the window as something hot and insistent nudged against his valve rim. He automatically tensed, sliding up Sideswipe’s spike a fraction as Sunstreaker’s joined the fray.

                “Relax,” Sunstreaker murmured.

                Easier said than done. But Wheeljack honest to Primus tried. Venting deeply, he settled back against Sideswipe’s thighs, the red twin giving him an encouraging smile.

                “C’mere,” Sideswipe suggested, reaching up and grasping the back of Wheeljack’s neck. “I’ll distract you.”

                Wheeljack let his head be pulled down, almost desperately meeting the other mech’s lips with his own. Fortunately, Sideswipe was damn good at being distracting. His glossa was sinful as it slipped between Wheeljack’s lips, licking and teasing at his denta. It was a familiar dance by now, and one Wheeljack quite enjoyed. The twins were good kissers, and Wheeljack loved the intimacy involved in the act, especially if it lingered. He was always happy to just snuggle and kiss the hours away.

                It felt like minutes had passed before pressure at Wheeljack’s valve rim brought him back to himself. He broke away from Sideswipe’s lips, biting his own at the first twinge of discomfort.

                “Just relax. It’ll fit. We’ve stretched you,” Sideswipe murmured, referring to the fingers Sideswipe had slipped into Wheeljack’s port alongside Sunstreaker’s spike earlier.

                “Mmhm,” Wheeljack replied absently, ventilations quickening a bit. A spike was a lot bigger than fingers, stretched or no.

                “And you’re wet,” Sunstreaker added, leaning forward to place a kiss at Wheeljack’s winglet hinges. “Really wet.”

                Sideswipe smirked, leaning up and bopping his nasal ridge against Wheeljack’s. “You’re welcome.”

                The frontliner had been extremely messy when he had been eating Wheeljack out earlier. Sideswipe had let the flow of lubricant smear all over his face instead of lapping it up as he had stimulated Wheeljack’s valve. Sunstreaker’s transfluid had just added to the mess between his thighs.

                Sunstreaker gripped Wheeljack’s hip with one hand while the other snaked between their bodies, gripping his spike to better direct it. Wheeljack tensed again and this time he was the one to initiate the kiss with Sideswipe.

                He merely opened up and let Wheeljack in, happily humming. As they kissed, gentle fingers stroked Wheeljack’s throat and neck, flirting under the plating to skim over sensitive tubing. He shivered at the pleasant touch and focused on that instead of the stinging sensation occurring in the caudal rim of his valve.

                With a muttered oath, Sunstreaker shifted behind him and bore down at the junction of Wheeljack’s port and Sideswipe’s spike. The red twin jerked and moaned, the sound drowning out Wheeljack’s own grunt.

                “Almost…” Sunstreaker announced, sounding a bit strained.

                Wheeljack tore his mouth away from Sideswipe’s, muttering ‘oh, frag’ as the pressure built and built. Sideswipe gave a faint laugh and nodded, his nasal ridging brushing along Wheeljack’s cheek.

                “You got that right,” Sideswipe whispered. “We’re gonna be inside you. Both of us. Both of us inside you,” he babbled excitedly, clutching at Wheeljack’s shoulders.

                And that was why Wheeljack had agreed to try this. Both of them, even Sunstreaker, had seemed so eager to sandwich Wheeljack between the two of them. Not like they hadn’t done that in other ways before, but this act was obviously special to them. Wheeljack supposed it was a twin thing.

                Before Wheeljack could comment, although he didn’t even know if he had the voice to do so, Sunstreaker’s spike popped past the ring of resistance and lodged itself alongside Sideswipe’s.

                Wheeljack cried out, burying his face in Sideswipe’s shoulder as his entire frame seized up in shock. It was supposed to feel good, they had promised it would, but all Wheeljack felt was pain and a good slice of panic. He couldn’t tell them to stop; they would be so sparkbroken…

                “That’s it, you did it,” Sideswipe crooned into Wheeljack’s audial, two pairs of hands stroking his body in pleased reassurance. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

                Wheeljack couldn’t speak. He just couldn’t make his lips move to form words, so he just nodded instead.

                “You’re so tight,” Sunstreaker commented, patting Wheeljack’s hip. “It will take a moment for your valve to adjust, then I’ll go a little deeper, ok?”

                Oh, Primus. Wheeljack was going to die. Or at least sustain damage. His HUD was filling with warnings, but maybe Sunstreaker was right. Maybe his valve would just relax after a few moments. It had when Sideswipe had added his fingers; it had been a very snug fit, but Wheeljack had been ok after a minute or so. Maybe if he just…

                He must have lost some time, because in the next moment, Sunstreaker pushed again, his spike slipping deeper. Wheeljack’s port _screamed_ at him and he choked on his own oral lubricant, fingers digging into the berth covers.

                Both twins hissed as Wheeljack’s valve clamped down and rippled a protest, doing its best to expel its penetrators. It probably felt good to them, not the signal of agony it truly was.

                “Fuck,” Sunstreaker said succinctly, Wheeljack feeling Sideswipe nod in agreement.

                “Still doing ok?” Sideswipe asked, patting the top of Wheeljack’s head. “It can be… pretty intense your first time.”

                First time? Wheeljack felt a little faint at the thought of a second time. How was he even going to make it through _this_ time?

                He tried to distract his processor, reciting chemical formulas and mathematical equations so fast that numbers and letters jumbled together in his mind. He recalled dozens of Ratchet’s rants about Wheeljack’s stupidity, the multitude of sad expressions Optimus could make despite his face mask, and millions upon millions of graying bodies on battlefields.

                He really needed different distractions.

                Sunstreaker sank a few inches deeper and Wheeljack whined, legs trembling from where they pressed against Sideswipe’s sides. The red twin’s body was familiar and comforting and Wheeljack did his best to burrow into it, seeking relief as his audials slowly blocked out outside noise with a building static.       

                Wheeljack focused on the familiar smell of the twins, Sunstreaker’s citrusy wax and the faint smell of ozone from Sideswipe’s subspace artillery arsenal. Both of their waxes were special ordered and personally applied by Sunstreaker in a day’s long process. It didn’t just smell good; it made their plating slick and smooth, and created a little tingle on Wheeljack’s glossa when he licked them. And he so loved to kiss and nibble them all over right after a freshly applied wax.

                Remembered pleasures were good, but they just couldn’t cancel out the present pain. Wheeljack found himself floundering. He wanted to shove the weight at his back off and run away, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know why, only that he had to stay in place and endure, despite his body’s very loud protests.

                They were so loud that it took several moments before Wheeljack heard something else.

                “-Jack? Wheeljack?!” someone shouted and then his left helm fin erupted in a bright flare of agony.

                “Ow,” he protested muzzily, jerking his head up and away from the point of pain. “Wha…?”

                He opened his optcs and saw Sideswipe staring back at him, expression twisted into one of concern and remorse.

                “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jack, but you weren’t responding,” Sideswipe explained, dropping his hand. Wheeljack watched its movement as if in a dream, Sideswipe’s thumb and forefinger spotted with energon. He had used his talons, Wheeljack realized.

                “I… I wasn’t?” Wheeljack asked, confused.

                “No. You were just…” Sideswipe trailed off, reaching up to cup Wheeljack’s face with shaking hands.

                “Wailing,” Sunstreaker supplied. He sounded hoarse, as if _he_ had been wailing, and Wheeljack instinctively tried to turn and look at his lover’s face. Instead he gasped and squeezed his optics shut as a fresh wave of pain burst through his valve as soon as he moved.

                “You’re hurt,” Sideswipe said, in a quiet little voice which made Wheeljack’s optics pop back open.

                “No! No, I’m not, I just need a little time to adjust…” Wheeljack protested, hating the look of despair on Sideswipe’s face. 

                “It’s been two and a half minutes since I last moved,” Sunstreaker supplied from behind him. “You’re way too tight. You shouldn’t be this tight still.”

                “Two and a half…?” Wheeljack trailed off in shock when he checked his chronometer and found the golden twin to be correct.

                Sideswipe’s fingers on his face tightened and Wheeljack was forced to look directly into the other mech’s optics. “Tell the truth, Wheeljack. Are you in pain?”

                “I…”

                Sideswipe looked so earnest; Wheeljack felt his lower lip tremble at the warrior’s open expression.

                “I’m sorry!” Wheeljack finally exclaimed in a half sob. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it hurts, and it’s not getting any better, and I must be doing something wrong, and you two have been so looking forward to this and I’m so sor…”

                His outburst was silenced by the gentle press of Sideswipe’s mouth against his own. “Shhh…” Sideswipe murmured against Wheeljack’s lips. “You haven’t don’t anything wrong. It’s ok. We don’t mind, we just want you to be comfortable. And you clearly aren’t.”

                “You should have told us,” Sunstreaker added, his engine rumbling in unhappiness. “I would have stopped sooner.”

                “I’m sorry… can we stop now?” Wheeljack asked, feeling so tense that he thought his joints might lock in place on accident. And wouldn’t that be a story to tell Ratchet?

                There was a pause before Sunstreaker spoke again. “I don’t know if I can. When I tried pulling out, you clenched down so hard I couldn’t move. I haven’t tried since.”

                “If it makes you feel any better,” Sideswipe said, turning Wheeljack’s attention back to him, “I’m well on my way to depressurizing. Definitely not into hurting my partners,” he added with a tremulous smile.

                “I know,” Wheeljack replied softly, doing his best to relax. The twins had always been attentive to his comfort level. Not always gentle, especially in the throes of passion, but that was an expected roughness. And Wheeljack had certainly been giving off some mixed signals that hadn’t helped the situation.

                “I’m getting there too,” Sunstreaker offered. “It’s just… our frames…”

                Wheeljack shook his head. “I understand.” Their equipment stayed primed even after overloading several times. Only battle protocols overrode their interfacing algorithms at that point.

                “So… how about them Yankees?” Sideswipe ventured after a moment. He looked hopefully up at Wheeljack, ignoring his brother’s muttered ‘idiot’.

                “Can’t say I follow baseball all that much,” Wheeljack said, trying to smile. It probably came out more like a grimace based on Sideswipe’s alarmed expression.

                “Why don’t you talk to us about your newest project?” Sunstreaker suggested soothingly.

                Which was actually not a bad idea. Especially since he had recently hit a snag. Since the twins weren’t scientifically inclined, he often had to break things down and explain his work in a way they would understand. In doing so, he sometimes found a way around his stumbling blocks.

                So he began talking, rambling really, about his quest for a long range weapon that could be used a continent away to neutralize the Decepticons without loss of life. Sunstreaker scoffed at that point, but Sideswipe merely nodded encouragingly and made the appropriate ‘go on’ noises, all the while stroking Wheeljack’s cheek.

                “Perceptor thinks that aim will be an issue, but I’m more worried about a long lasting power source,” Wheeljack explained animatedly.

                “Pft. What does Perceptor know?” Sideswipe remarked.

                Wheeljack stared down in disbelief at the frontliner. “Quite a lot actually. He’s a bit of a genius.”

                “So are you. Stay still,” Sideswipe instructed suddenly.

                Seconds later, Wheeljack felt the bed move slightly as Sunstreaker shifted behind him. Wheeljack automatically tensed, but the golden twin was only reaching for the bottle of artificial lubricant which had been dropped somewhere alongside Sideswipe’s knees.

                “What are you doing?” Wheeljack asked nervously.

                “Just making sure I don’t hurt you more,” Sunstreaker answered before flipping the top of the vial and pouring some of the liquid over the junction of their spikes and Wheeljack’s valve. “You’ve dried out a bit.”

                Sunstreaker continued to pour until lubricant began running down Wheeljack’s inner thighs. It seemed a bit excessive, but his port still ached, so who was he to judge?

                “I’m just going to massage it in a little,” Sunstreaker said. His hand slid between Wheeljack’s thighs and he shivered as warm fingertips carefully traced the distended lip of his valve. It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that their spikes were already a little smaller now. He shifted experimentally and immediately regretted it as a burst of pain lit up his sensor net.

                “Stop,” Sunstreaker commanded, slick hand clamping down on Wheeljack’s hip. “Not yet.”

                “Ok,” Wheeljack said faintly, the words muffled against Sideswipe’s shoulder. The red twin soothingly stroked Wheeljack’s nape, a light kiss landing on the side of his forehelm.

                “We want you slicked up so when we pull out we don’t tear anything,” Sideswipe murmured. “Sunny’s trying to work some of the lubricant around both of our spikes so they slide out a little easier.”

                “Ok,” Wheeljack repeated. “So… I was thinking about what kind of battery we could use…”

                Wheeljack continued to ramble on about different batteries and their life expectancies compared to the potential power drain. He did his best to lose himself in the comforting retreat of science.

                The twins interjected here and there, obviously trying to prolong the conversation. Wheeljack was grateful. Letting his processor run amok was easier than focusing in on his interface array. It was still angrily tight around Sideswipe’s and Sunstreaker’s spikes, not even loosening with time and distractions.

                “… but if you use that, won’t it be too heavy to even lift?” Sideswipe asked after Wheeljack mentioned the possibility of a radon-belliterium battery.

                “Well, not necessarily… ow!” Wheelack gasped, trailing off as there was a tug on his valve rim. He turned to look over his shoulder, but Sideswipe’s hands flew up and latched onto his helm fins.

                “Keep talking to me,” Sideswipe instructed softly. “Who would be able to carry something like that?”

                “I…I uh…” Wheeljack stammered a little bit, distracted by a new stinging sensation in his port. There was a shifting of pressures within him, his calipers twitching restlessly at the change. “Well… Optimus for certain. Ironhide. Brawn, although his height might be a problem; he could easily lift the weapon but I’m not certain he would be able to walk with… with… oh.”

                Sunstreaker’s hand was pressing against Wheeljack’s aftas the golden frontliner slowly but steadily moved backwards. As he did, he continued to smooth lubricant around Wheeljack’s valve in an attempt to make the retrograde passage of his spike easier.

                “What about us?” Sideswipe questioned, drawing Wheeljack’s attention again. “You don’t think we could carry it around?”

                “Um… _ngh_ … not really. Maybe if it was welded to your frame. Ooo! Ratchet could probably carry it pretty easily.” Wheeljack sagged in disappointment right after the thought popped into his head. “Probably wouldn’t want to, though.”

                “How are you doing, ‘Jack?” Sunstreaker asked from behind him, patting Wheeljack’s rear end. “I’m almost out. We’re both barely pressurized, but you’re still really tight.”

                Wheeljack worried at his lower lip. His gaze caught on Sideswipe’s, which was open and non-accusatory.

                “It still hurts. Not as much as before, but…” Wheeljack admitted, fingers clenching in the bed coverings. “How much longer do you think?”

                Just as Wheeljack asked, he felt a touch of cooler air against the back of his thighs. With one last drag against the caudal lip of Wheeljack’s port, Sunstreaker popped free. Wheeljack made a shocked sound as his valve rim spasmed at the sudden decrease in pressure. Beneath him, Sideswipe hissed.

                “Damn,” he muttered, hands tightening briefly on Wheeljack’s shoulders before loosening again. Wheeljack agreed. He could still feel Sideswipe just inside him, barely hard. Yet his presence still hurt.

                That boggled Wheeljack’s mind. He had taken the twins separately before without any issue. What was wrong with him?!

                “Don’t move,” Sunstreaker commanded, and there was a flurry of activity behind him as the frontliner moved to peer down at Wheeljack’s port. “… oh, Jack…”

                “What? What is it?” Wheeljack asked, panicking a little. He startled as a finger gently brushed his entrance.

                There was a pause and Sideswipe spoke up for his brother, voice crackling at the edges. “You’re bleeding. Not a huge amount, but some. And you’re all clamped down.”

                “I don’t know why…” Wheeljack said plaintively. “Am I hurting you?”

                Sideswipe gave a short bark of a laugh, his expression twisting into something dark. “ _You_ hurting _me_? No, ‘Jack, trust me, you haven’t done either of us any damage. And it shouldn’t be much longer before I’m done too. I’m sorry it’s taking so long.”

                There was a note of shame in the red frontliner’s voice and Wheeljack immediately leaned down and brushed his lips against Sideswipe’s.

                “It’s all right,” Wheeljack whispered fervently. “I’m familiar with how your systems work.”

                “This was all my idea,” Sideswipe replied miserably, his optics dim. “And I could tell you were nervous, but I thought you would relax after a bit.”

                “I have before with new things,” Wheeljack said truthfully. He’d had plenty of experience on his own, but both twins were pretty adventurous and a lot of their time together started out with Sideswipe saying, ‘I have an idea…’

                “Not every act is for every mech,” Sunstreaker commented. This time when Wheeljack automatically turned to look over his shoulder, it was enough of a motion for Sideswipe’s spike to slip free.

                Wheeljack jolted in pained surprise as his valve complained loudly and clenched down on nothing. It punched a grunt out of him and both twins reached out to steady him as he wavered.

                “Well, that’s that then,” Wheeljack said, trying to make light of the situation. He should have known that wouldn’t have been the end of it.

                “C’mere,” Sunstreaker said and starting tugging on Wheeljack. Between that and Sideswipe’s coordinated pushing, they soon had him lying on his back. Which was a bit of relief in itself. His legs and lower back were cramped up from being in the same position for so long and it felt good to stretch them out.

                “Let me see,” Sunstreaker continued, gently spreading Wheeljack’s knees and peering down to look at his exposed array. As Sunstreaker did that, Sideswipe curled up against Wheeljack’s side, radiating an odd mix of comfort and guilt.

                Wheeljack let Sunstreaker touch his array and gently prod it for a minute before he shrugged out from under Sideswipe and sat up. Propping himself up on one palm behind him, he reached down to grasp Sunstreaker’s wrist. The frontliner stilled but refused to look at him.

                “The damage is minor,” Wheeljack said softly, having already pursued his HUD’s report of his interface systems. Now that he wasn’t being penetrated, his valve had calmed and his calipers had gone quiescent. His nanites was already hard at work repairing the abraded valve lining. It would take an estimated full day until he could safely use his valve again, but that was a great deal better than he had expected.

                Sunstreaker twisted out of Wheeljack’s grip and showed off the tips of his index and pointer fingers, both of which were smeared with energon. “Still enough to make you bleed,” he spat. “I hurt you.”

                “Sunny, don’t…” Wheeljack began, but Sunstreaker shook his head, sitting back on the heels of his pedes.

                “You were fine with just Sideswipe. It was my spike that…”

                Wheeljack pushed himself fully upright, reaching out to grasp Sunstreaker’s waist. Sideswipe was a silent observer behind and off to Wheeljack’s right, palpable waves of misery emanating from both of them.

                “Sometimes mecha get hurt in interfacing,” Wheeljack said patiently. “You didn’t mean for it to happen… I certainly didn’t. I don’t know why my valve suddenly decided enough was enough, but it did. And it doesn’t mean I don’t still trust you both, because I do.”

                “But…”

                “You wanna make it up to me?” Wheeljack demanded, releasing Sunstreaker’s hips and leaning back on his own hands.

                “Yes?” Sunstreaker replied hesitantly, a little confused.

                Wheeljack gestured at his groin. “Then clean me up.”

                Sunstreaker blinked down Wheeljack’s array. There was a long moment of silence and then Sunstreaker started to move, looking over in the direction of the twins’ washrack.

                “No,” Wheeljack said firmly. “Use your mouth.”

                Next to him, Sideswipe made a faint noise of surprise as Sunstreaker stopped and looked back at Wheeljack, optics wide. “Aren’t you sore?”

                Gaze still locked on Sunstreaker’s, Wheeljack nodded. “Yes. But I should be cleaned up. And if Sunstreaker is really sorry, he’ll use his glossa instead of a rag.”

                Sunstreaker stared at him for a moment more before nodding almost imperceptibly. “All right.”

                He leaned forward and curled up in the space between Wheeljack’s thighs, face dipping close. Warm ex-vents wafted over Wheeljack’s array as Sunstreaker considered where to start first. A tentative glossa on Wheeljack left inner thigh made him sigh and lean back even further.

                The golden twin laved Wheeljack’s thighs from knee to pelvis, cleaning up all traces of natural and artificial lubricant. It took long enough that Wheeljack’s arms began to shake with the effort of remaining propped up. At that point, Sideswipe slid behind Wheeljack, legs bracketing him and silently urging him to lean into Sideswipe’s chest. Wheeljack did so gratefully, enjoying the quiet rumble of Sideswipe’s engine reassuringly close.

                Soon, Wheeljack was cleaned completely except for his valve. Sunstreaker was obviously reluctant to proceed, licking at spots he’d already attended to previously. Finally, Wheeljack reached down and tapped Sunstreaker’s head.

                “Get on with it. Or aren’t you sorry?”

                That was a low blow, but Sunstreaker when got going, he had a guilt complex as wide as a combiner was tall. If this wasn’t addressed now, it would fester within them both, but especially Sunstreaker.

                “I’m sorry,” Sunstreaker whispered faintly in agreement and then bent his head to press trembling lips to Wheeljack’s anterior node.

                Wheeljack jerked in place, biting his lip when Sunstreaker’s glossa tip massaged Wheeljack’s piercing. It was suckled lightly, removing all traces of lubricant and sending a bolt of lust straight through him despite the situation.

                “That’s good,” Wheeljack murmured, avidly watching as Sunstreaker’s lips pinched tighter together to provide better suction. “Keep showing me that you’re sorry.”

                Shaking, Sunstreaker murmured a wordless affirmative, his optics sliding closed. His mouth moved laterally and began licking at the outer rim of Wheeljack’s port. The frontliner made a complete circuit of the entrance, glossa lightly flicking up traces of fluids.

                His next pass moved him a bit closer inwards and Wheeljack felt the first twinge of discomfort as Sunstreaker’s glossa found a tear in Wheeljack’s lining. He must have made some sort of noise or tensed, because Sunstreaker paused a moment before resuming, the motions of his mouth even more gentle.

                Sunstreaker discovered more abrasions as he methodically worked himself deeper into Wheeljack’s port. His glossa could only penetrate so far, but he was precise as he explored every millimeter of the abused passage.

                Surprisingly, Wheeljack was ok with the attention; he didn’t tighten down around Sunstreaker’s glossa in protest against the intrusion. Instead, Wheeljack found himself opening, his legs spreading wider and his hips moving minutely with each slow thrust of Sunstreaker’s glossa.

                “This ok?” Sideswipe whispered against Wheeljack’s audial, surprising him. He had half-forgotten the other twin was there, despite his stalwart position as Wheeljack’s pillow.

                “Yeah,” Wheeljack replied faintly, charge building slow and warm in the pit of his belly.

                “You want more?” Sideswipe asked, hand sliding across Wheeljack’s abdomen. The smallest of Sideswipe’s fingers skirted the edge of Wheeljack’s spike housing. His equipment was crowning, just beginning to pressurize and emerge from his sheath. Wheeljack considered it but then shook his head.

                “No. Just this,” Wheeljack answered, his hand cradling the back of Sunstreaker’s helm. The frontliner’s optics were still closed, expression soft as he worked over Wheeljack’s valve. Much better than the guilt-stricken face he had been given Wheeljack earlier.

                Sideswipe’s hand moved back up, talons lightly scratching along the edge of Wheeljack’s windshield and making him shiver. “You gonna come?”

                Sunstreaker lightly suckled the caudal rim of Wheeljack’s valve, one of the areas that was the most damaged. The sting of discomfort blended with a slowly rising pressure however, igniting a small blaze within him. Wheeljack nodded, his optics dimming as he rested the back of his head against Sideswipe’s shoulder.

                “Yeah. Please.”

                “Happy to oblige. Sunny’s good with his mouth. He likes this, just going slow and savoring,” Sideswipe murmured conversationally.

                “Mm. I like it too.”

                It was different then their normal pace. Not that their couplings were ever frantic, but all three of them were pretty passionate. It was nice to just lay back and enjoy the slow gatherings of charge into an impending overload.

                Sideswipe wound his arms around Wheeljack’s waist, anchoring him securely. Then he dipped his head and began to lick at Wheeljack’s throat, suckling on exposed tubing and lines. Wheeljack allowed his head to roll to the side, giving Sideswipe more room. He hugged Sideswipe’s arms to himself, and just _felt_.

                Floating in warm pleasure, Wheeljack’s overload crested over him so quietly that he was honestly surprised at its arrival. He moaned low and long, hips pressing his valve against Sunstreaker’s lips in a silent plea. And the frontliner obliged him, working Wheeljack’s node and its piercing with gentle, but firm presses of a talented glossa.

                Sideswipe broke off from his lazy attentions to the side of Wheeljack’s neck and talked him through the waves of bliss. He heard quiet whispers of how beautiful he was, how sexy and brave, and how sorry they both were, that they didn’t mean to hurt him, that they would never intentionally hurt him ever again.

                When Wheeljack finally came down from his high, there was an almost painful pressure around his chest and abdomen. He opened optics and lifted his head to see that Sideswipe’s arms had shifted so that Sunstreaker could crawl up and rest his head on Wheeljack’s belly, hands wrapped tightly around his hips.

                They were silent now, gazes hidden from view. Frozen and tense as if expecting harsh, condemning words from him.

                Wheeljack wiggled to get more comfortable and then wearily patted the back of Sunstreaker’s helm and Sideswipe’s crossed arms.

                “Apology accepted.”

 

~ End


	2. Take Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harutemu said: Wheeljack and facesitting or take two on double pen, please and thank you?

            Wheeljack stared up at the ceiling and concentrated on venting. Venting was important. Venting brought in cool air to temper overheated components. And boy did Wheeljack have some overheated components right now.

            The twins had taken turns between his legs, one sucking on his spike and the other eating out his valve. They drove him from overload to overload, until he was dripping with condensation and limp from pleasure.

            “’Jack… do you think we could try now?” Sideswipe asked, nuzzling Wheeljack’s hip.

            Wheeljack slowly moved his head so that he was gazing down at the red frontliner. Eager blue optics looked back at him, surrounded by a face streaked with lubricant and transfluid. Sideswipe liked to get messy during interfacing. He didn’t mind being tacky or sticky, unlike his brother. The more fluids, the merrier.

            “… yeah,” Wheeljack replied after a long moment, seeing Sideswipe start to frown at the lack of reply. “Sorry… think you blew a fuse with that last one.”

            Sideswipe grinned brightly, wriggling his shoulders smugly. “Good. Want you all loose.”

            “I am that,” Wheeljack admitted. Or at least he hoped. It hadn’t only been mouths on his valve. Several fingers had snuck into him here and there; he was pretty sure four at one point.

            “Here’s the first toy,” Sunstreaker announced, reaching over the side of the bed for the box they had specially prepared. He lifted up a thick purple dildo, ridged, and wreathed in orange and yellow flames. “Please ignore the designs. Sideswipe had to get fancy,” he said with a withering look at his twin.

            “I’m not really plannin’ on looking at ‘em,” Wheeljack said with a slight smile. “They’re going to be buried in me anyway.”

            Sideswipe purred, leaning over to messily suck the tip of the dildo. For now, Wheeljack’s natural lubricants would do, but there was a tall bottle of artificial fluids standing by for when the toys stretched his limits.

            “There ya go,” Sideswipe said, lifting off the toy with one last kiss to the tip. “That’ll be the first one. Just a smidge wider than our spikes alone.”

            Sunstreaker placed it at the entrance to Wheeljack’s valve and gently pushed. It slid in easily, his calipers easily widening to accommodate the stretch.

            “Nice,” Sideswipe commented, optics now focused on Wheeljack’s groin. “You wanna come on that, or go a size up?”

            Wheeljack thought about it for a moment before answering. The twins were almost adorable in their eagerness to ‘train’ Wheeljack’s body into taking both their spikes at the same time. They were committed to practicing and moving slowly, always checking in with Wheeljack for his comfort level. As such, they plied him with attention and many… _many_ … overloads during these little sessions.

            Letting his legs fall open even wider, he tilted his hips up. “The next one,” he said, static fuzzing his words. It wouldn’t do to be selfish. Besides, the more they all worked at this, the more eager Wheeljack was for another attempt.

**Author's Note:**

> Vaginismus: Vaginismus, sometimes called vaginism, is a condition that affects a woman's ability to engage in vaginal penetration, including sexual intercourse, manual penetration, insertion of tampons or menstrual cups, and the penetration involved in gynecological examinations (pap tests). This is the result of an involuntary vaginal muscle spasm, which makes any kind of vaginal penetration painful or impossible. While there is a lack of evidence to definitively identify which muscle is responsible for the spasm, the pubococcygeus muscle, sometimes referred to as the "PC muscle", is most often suggested. Other muscles such as the levator ani, bulbocavernosus, circumvaginal, and perivaginal muscles have also been suggested.[1]
> 
> A woman with vaginismus does not consciously control the spasm. The vaginismic reflex can be compared to the response of the eye shutting when an object comes towards it. The severity of vaginismus, as well as the pain during penetration (including sexual penetration), varies from woman to woman.[2]


End file.
